Chapter 4

As Chad sat astride a horse and watched the dreary landscape known as the 'Neck' fade away, he still couldn't figure out how he came to be here. Oh, he knew logically that he failed to sway his 'father' into staying in the North, he just couldn't fathom how Rickard Stark could still send him.

The show he had put on in the Great Hall before his family and servants, had been one an Edgelord with a degree in Chūnibyō would have been proud of.

He had decided to go the scorched earth strategy, making himself into the equivalent of a political nuclear bomb that would have destroyed any chance of Rickard's schemes succeeding.

The fact that he now referred to himself as the Chosen of the Old Gods and named his hammer Retribution should have been enough, but Chad wanted to make absolutely sure he would not be sent south.

"Father, after you condemned me to be killed by your southron ambitions, I sought the Old Gods for protection. They must have agreed with me that you are a delusional fool to send a devout worshipper of the Gods such as I to a land that has killed every man, woman, or child that dared to do the same. They have blessed me greatly in hopes that you will change your mind, and stifle your idolising of the Seven that are Incestuous!"

To be fair, insulting a man through his own religion was probably not a smart move, but the look of pure rage on the Lord's face made Chad smile. His earlier shame at having to flee from his fathers solar washed away with this petty vengeance. All because he needed a reason for his new powers.

"Boy, this is your last chance," Rickard announced, his voice shaking with fury, "stop your foolishness, kneel and beg for forgiveness, and the beating I give you for besmirching the God's name will still let you sit down after a day!"

"You would dare lay hands on me after I have become the Chosen of the Old Gods? Even as I carry Retribution in a mission to seek redress for the many transgressions your Andal friends and their false gods have done us? You have truly fallen far, father, if you have forsaken the Old Gods of the North!"

And as Chad shouted 'North', he brought down the mighty hammer as hard as he could on the stone floor. Shattering any doubts that the weapon was real and not some sort of trickery, just like the stone chips of the paving broken from the impact of Retribution.

The Chunni was strong that day.

But as Chad was riding high from showing off a fraction of his power and relishing the shock on the faces of those gathered, an angry female voice sounded out.

Usually, Chad would have been happy to hear his mother's voice, but the magical power behind those words made his heart stop in dread.

"Chad Stark, you stop this right now! Rickard is your Lord Father, and you will show him some respect. Do you have any idea how much it will cost to fix the floor from your foolishness? Now apologise and go to your room to think about what you have done!" Ordered Lyarra Stark.

That bloody Stalwart Shield Flaw had stopped his performance cold, and no matter how he tried to fight it, he couldn't help but comply.

"I'm sorry," Chad growled out, his face a mask of anger.

Turning around, he slung his hammer with one hand over his shoulder and started off towards his bedroom.

"Leave the hammer." Came Rickard's command.

Chad ignored him and continued on, Lyarra's earlier order to respect him could be measured in different ways. With all of Chad's power, not killing the man could be considered as being respectful, at least in Chad's mind, and this allowed him to bypass the cursed Flaw.

"You heard your father!" Came the dreaded voice.

This would not do, what if she ordered him to let Rickard use Retribution? Before his mother could ruin any more of his plans, Chad decided to use this opportunity to his advantage.

With a flex of his illusion skills, he turned his eyes entirely white, turned back to face his parents and removed the magic on his hammer. As the massive steel weapon returned back to a pile of dirt Chad delivered one last Chūnibyō line in an altered voice.

"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Congratulations on taking your sons only protection."

Chad returned his eyes to normal, shook his head as if coming out of a trance, and then continued walking back to his bedroom.

His performance had been perfect, there was no way a Lord would send away a potentially unstable child to build alliances. They would need to keep him closeby to mitigate any damage he might do.

So why the hell had he just rode weeks through sh*tty, muddy tracks that barely deserved to be called a road? Why not send him by ship from White Harbour to Gulltown?

Was it so he could see his future land of Moat Cailin himself and make Chad realise he needed to behave himself if he ever wanted it restored to livable conditions?

It was roughly fifteen-hundred miles from Winterfell to the Eyrie, and if they got a decent run of forty miles a day, that was still nearly forty days of riding!

Was this supposed to be punishment for his outburst or something more sinister? He did only have a guard of ten 'loyal' Stark men, loyal to his father that was.

He had been confined to his room and sent south the next day, making him unable to go and collect a few guards of his own whether with the promise of money or religious artifacts.

The whole situation had been bizarre and turned out like nothing he had planned. Other than Lord Stark, the rest of his family had come by his room to see him before he was sent away. Even Brandon had rocked up, though with how blasé he was Chad suspected he was forced by mother.

No matter how Chad looked at the situation, he would never have sent him south if he was Rickard. There was literal proof of him at least having magic if not blessed by the Old Gods, and still, he was sent.

"Look, son, it is not what you think, I am not sending you away to die. It is to expand your worldview and for you to make some friends to help you later on in life! Unfortunately, no matter how much you or your mother try to change my mind, I have given my word to Lord Arryn that I would send my second-born son. Anything less would be a slight against Arryn and my honour, no matter your gifts."

Chad had just stared at his 'father' incredulously. He had thought that canon Ned had gotten his retardedness from Jon's teachings, not Rickards. But since Ned could doom his whole family for honour, why couldn't Lord Rickard Stark?

Rickard read the look in Chad's eyes and correctly assumed he thought his father a complete f*ckwit, with a sigh Rickard delivered some parting advice.

"It would be wise to not tell anyone about your 'blessing' or religious views, you were not wrong when you mentioned their intolerance of anything different."

And with that, the idiot turned around like he had just dropped some words of wisdom. The f*ck was his father's brain made out of, sh*t?

From then, it had been a long sh*tty ride along the Kingsroad, a glorified dirt road. His guards had been rather closelipped, barely deigning to speak unless asked direct questions about travelling. It seems his father had chosen them well, none were going to be swayed by his new religious abilities.

Moat Cailin was a bit of a trash heap, but he had already expected that when he chose it as his land deed in the CYOA, it had been free after all. It would need to be rebuilt, but with his magic, it would be a lot easier than what Lord Stark must have been thinking to show him by the guards stopping there for a day.

All in all, things had not gone according to plan, and Chad was feeling even more reckless than he had when he came up with the 'scorched earth strategy' he used in the Great Hall of Winterfell.

It wasn't that he couldn't escape to adventure out on his own, but he wanted a legitimate reason to tell both Jon Arryn and Rickard Stark to shove the fostering up their arse. He had decided on Essos.

It was a dangerous path, but one that would see Chad richly rewarded if he played his cards right. The North was all but impenetrable from a land approach by enemies, but by sea was a different manner.

Chad's plan involved heading to Bravos and starting up a shipping company of devoted minions. With the almighty utility of Potterverse magic, repairing ships would save him thousands of dragons when buying them, and creating things to sell all but too easy.

He just needed a way to make it look like Jon Arryn failed to ensure his safety so he could do a runner. That answer came in the form of something entirely predictable for a party their size travelling through the Mountains of the Moon.

A clansmen attack.